


Not in Control

by chicago_ruth



Series: Series of Nots (Harem AU) [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Bondage, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 16:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicago_ruth/pseuds/chicago_ruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin likes owning Gwaine -- at least Gwaine is just property and can't judge Merlin for not living up to anybody's expectations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not in Control

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all my friends who listened to me whine about this fic. <3

Morgana helps him buy his first slave when he is ten. She is only three years older than him, but she speaks like an expert on the matter -- a mannerism she picked up from their governess, Morgause. Merlin is just grateful that he doesn't have to do the process by himself. How would he know what to look for if she weren't there to help him?

With her advice, Merlin ends up choosing a boy only slightly older than him, with short-cropped brown hair and an easy smile. 

"This one is tame," the slave-peddler says, and neither Merlin nor Morgana is experienced enough yet to see the lie for what it is.

\--

Merlin needs a slave, they tell him, because he cannot keep asking the guards to do things for him. His father is too busy -- he is so busy that Merlin hasn't seen him in months -- and Morgana is getting too old to play with him. Gaius has patients, Morgause has other students, and Nimueh and Sigan are too busy ruling the country to deal with a lord's son.

(If they hadn't all been so busy, maybe Merlin wouldn't have been alone that night.)

Thus, a new companion for him.

\--

The slave -- Gwaine, his name is Gwaine -- is wild. He is maybe thirteen years old, and his main job is to entertain Merlin and do chores for him. Merlin thinks that should be simple, but Gwaine tries to run three times in the first week. Morgause whips him the first two times, and makes Merlin do it the third. She teaches him how to use his magic to make the lashes sting harder without breaking flesh, and she shows him how to use the same magic to soothe the pain after. Merlin cries anyway, because he hates using his magic to cause pain. (He hates using his magic at all.)

After almost a month, Gwaine's back would be completely scarred if not for magic.

"Perhaps you need a new technique," Gaius suggests after Merlin complains. "He does not respond well to punishment. And he is alone and scared. Be his friend, Merlin."

So Merlin tries to be Gwaine's friend. He shares his toys, gives Gwaine treats, and has the tailor make new clothes for him. Gwaine accepts everything with a smile, and another month later he runs away again.

"He may be a lost cause," Morgause says with a pinched look on her face. "At this point we may have to just spell him into obedience."

Gwaine goes completely still at those words. Merlin has interacted with only one spelled slave in his life, but that was enough. The spell robs slaves of their personalities, until the only thing left is the desire to obey. 

Merlin shakes his head. Gwaine isn't always perfect, and he makes a lot of messes, but Merlin likes his smiles just the same. "Please don't! I can teach him!" 

He steps in front of Gwaine protectively, even though Gwaine is two heads taller than him. Morgause snorts in laughter at that, which causes Merlin to frown harder. "He's my slave, isn't he! I get to decide what to do with him!"

Morgause shakes her head. "How he behaves reflects on the household. Rein him in within a month or I'm having him spelled." She turns to leave, but stops briefly at the door. 

"Count your blessings, boy. Young master Merlin is kinder than I am," she says to Gwaine, the first time she has addressed him since the conversation started. 

And then she is gone. Merlin sighs in relief.

"Why did you do that?" Gwaine asks. He has no compunction about speaking directly to Merlin, even though all the rules say slaves should only speak when spoken to. Merlin knows that rule well, because it applies to children as well.

Merlin tilts his head at Gwaine. "Do you want to be spelled?"

"No, of course not!" A look of horror passes over Gwaine, lingering as though Gwaine is truly imagining how it would be. "Your mind is gone after a spell like that."

Merlin takes Gwaine's hand into his own. Gwaine's hand is a lot larger, rougher. His skin is darker too, like he spent a lot of time out in the sun. Merlin is told to stay indoors fairly often, for fear of somebody stealing him away again. (Don't think about it, Gaius said to him. It's over now, and don't think about it.)

"Please," Merlin asks, "could you not run away anymore? I don't want Morgause to hurt you."

He looks Gwaine in the eyes, and for some reason, Gwaine answers, "Okay."

\--

Strangely enough, Gwaine does not attempt to escape again. Perhaps the threat of being spelled into obedience is a strong enough deterrent. 

It doesn't mean he isn't still cheeky. When the two of them are alone, Gwaine treats Merlin like a child. Of course he shouldn't, but Merlin is too afraid to complain -- what if Morgause catches wind and insists on setting the spell on Gwaine? What if she makes Merlin do the spell? (Merlin is almost certain that he couldn't, that his magic would refuse to obey, but Morgause has more success in coaxing his magic into submission than he does.)

"Where are your parents?" Gwaine asks him one day, when they are out gathering herbs for Gaius. The guards are a short distance away, keeping watch over Merlin.

Merlin shrugs. "My mother was a slave, and my father is the dragonlord. He always has to travel."

The answer seems to surprise Gwaine. "Your mother was a slave?"

Sometimes Merlin hears adults speaking about him, about the shame of his parentage and that Balinor should have married a priestess, or at least a sorceress, but they never mention it to his face. "Father once said that he loved my mother very much, and he is sorry that I never got to meet her."

Gwaine kneels down so he is at eye-level with Merlin. "I'm sure she was a good woman." He bites his lip, as if there is more to say, but then he shakes his head and moves to a shrub. 

"I think this is one of the herbs Gaius is looking for."

They work for a bit longer, though now Gwaine doesn't say anything. Merlin doesn't understand, because the fact that he doesn't know his mother has never bothered him before. Finally, to break the silence, he says, "It doesn't matter. I'm the strongest sorcerer alive. Even with a slave mother, my magic isn't tainted. I just need to learn to control it."

But instead of getting Gwaine's mood to lighten, the statement makes him frown. He refuses to speak to Merlin at all for the rest of the day.

\--

"It's been almost a year, hasn't it?" Morgause says one morning during the lessons. She has Morgana using a scrying stone to reach into the future, and Merlin is supposed to be practicing his control over the elements. (Merlin doesn't even have control over his magic, how is he supposed to control water or fire?) Gwaine and Gwen are seated on the floor by the far wall.

The statement is odd, without context. It isn't anybody's birthday, nor can Merlin recall either him or Morgana achieving anything about a year ago. Gwen has been with them longer than a year and Gwaine less than that, so she isn't talking about the slaves either.

"Don't," Morgana says, softly. Her eyes are wide and blank, still seeing into the future. When no other words pass her lips, Merlin shrugs and lets his concentration get back to the bowl of water in front of him.

The water is slowly rising to the air, forming small spheres and oblong shapes, when Morgause pats him on the shoulder.

Suddenly the only thing Merlin can see is the dark room from a year ago, his body bound with magical chains and his mouth stuffed with a foul-smelling cloth. A soft touch on his shoulder makes him think he might get rescued, but the touch sends a sharp jolt of pain through him. He cries out, it hurts it hurts it--

The table slams against the opposite wall and splits into two. Morgana shrieks and drops her scrying stone, and it sounds like somebody is saying something, but everything is so loud that Merlin can't hear, he just needs to be alone, right now, and his magic is surrounding him, keeping him safe in a way it didn't a year ago.

It's easy to tell that Morgana and Gwen are terrified, and Merlin is sorry for that but he doesn't know how to make it better. Morgause's eyes are glowing gold, probably to launch a spell and berate him for losing control again, but it isn't his fault, the magic isn't part of him, not really, it acts of its own will and he can't, he can't make it do what somebody else orders him to, why doesn't anybody understand. 

His vision blurs and sobs escape, even though he's almost eleven and too old to be crying. The tears get worse the moment he feels his magic shatter around him. Merlin curls into himself, hoping nobody will see.

"Hey, hey. Merlin, I gotcha. Calm down."

Merlin lifts his head slightly. Gwaine is standing in front of him, one hand extended. There is nothing but concern on his face, even though Merlin was so sure that Gwaine didn't like him.

He takes the offered hand and lets himself be pulled into a hug. It's okay to cry into Gwaine's shoulder, because Gwaine isn't really a person anyway, right? He's just a slave.

\--

Gwaine is nicer, after that. He brings breakfast for Merlin, he cleans Merlin's rooms, he keeps Merlin entertained. Merlin still isn't sure why; after that shameful performance, he would have expected even Morgana to avoid him. But Gwaine makes Merlin feel better on the rough days, and he can make even dull days fun, so Merlin cherishes the new attitude, even though he is not sure he deserves it. He tries to make life easier for Gwaine, in his own way. He makes sure all his leftovers go to Gwaine, and he has new trousers and tunics made for him during those years where he grows and grows. And he tries to be gentle, though on a few rare occasions Gwaine acts out and needs to be disciplined.

Morgause is proud of him. "You've done well," she says one night when Gwaine is serving them dinner. "I would hardly know this is the same boy who tried to flee almost daily." She reaches out to touch his bicep and he doesn't flinch away. 

Merlin blushes a bit but keeps his gaze on Gwaine. He doesn't like it when other people touch Gwaine; it is easy enough to keep random strangers from touching his property, but Morgause is his teacher and he cannot deny her. He is already counting the days until Morgause is dismissed from service.

She catches his gaze for a moment, smiles, then drops her hand. "So, about your lessons..."

Merlin has no doubt that she knows how he feels.

\--

Only once does Gwaine ask about Merlin's outburst.

Merlin's first instinct is to ignore the question, to order Gwaine to shut up, but Gwaine has been so good lately that it doesn't seem right.

"When I was younger, just two months shy of ten, somebody kidnapped me. I don't... I don't remember a lot of it," -- he tries not to remember a lot of it -- "but the person who took me tried to make me use my magic for something. I don't know what or why. Just that it was bad. And I couldn't. I tried. I tried really hard, but my magic doesn't always respond to me, or maybe I was too scared, but--"

Gwaine runs a hand up and down Merlin's back, soothing, and doesn't ask Merlin to continue when he falls silent.

\--

Nimueh visits once a week, and always makes a point to dismiss Gwaine while she is there. "I don't want him finding out," she says, only she never mentions what it is that needs to stay hidden from Gwaine.

She teaches Merlin a few things about politics, more about history, and even tries to get him to make a prophecy or two. He never gets very far -- "The future is wide open" -- but it seems to satisfy her.

"You have such a great destiny, Merlin. It's a shame that things have fallen so far off course."

Merlin sulks after her visits, but Gwaine always does something silly to distract him. It's good that he's there, and when the visits are particularly nerve-wracking, he finds himself willing to answer Gwaine's questions. 

"Nimueh and Sigan rule this land. My father is a lord under them, but he's in the north most of the time, negotiating with the dragons. And sometimes other kingdoms -- they tend to respect a Dragonlord. And for some reason they offered to keep me in their care."

He vaguely remembers hearing his father arguing with Nimueh and Sigan over something, but it was before he was kidnapped. Ever since that incident, his father has grown more and more distant, only visiting once every few months.

Sometimes Merlin wonders if he should be confiding this much in Gwaine, when he doesn't even talk to Morgana this much -- Morgana, who has grown up with him and knows his future -- but he decides he doesn't care. If there were a problem, no doubt Nimueh or Morgause would have said as much by now.

\--

When Merlin is fifteen, Gwaine kisses him. The sun is just beginning to set and Merlin has settled in front of the fire, to read, when Gwaine crouches down next to him. Gwaine pushes Merlin's book away and leans in, their lips brushing against each other softly.

"Why--"

Gwaine takes advantage of Merlin's open mouth and deepens the kiss, more tongue than finesse.

It isn't like Merlin hasn't noticed how attractive Gwaine has grown. He is no longer taller than Merlin -- Merlin hit his growth spurt the past summer -- but he still has a lot more muscle weight. Understandable, when Gwaine has to do hard labor while Merlin can rely entirely on slaves and magic. Merlin feels a bit self-conscious, truth be told, but Gwaine says nothing when his hands roam under Merlin's tunic so he lets himself believe that Gwaine doesn't mind.

There was a lesson, a year or two ago, wherein Gaius explained that sex with slaves is different from sex with equals. Something about power imbalances, and taking care not to hurt anybody, and making sure everybody is happy.

But Gwaine kissed Merlin first, so Merlin figures everything is all right. He kisses back as enthusiastically as he knows how to given his limited experiences -- a few kisses with Morgana, and the _don't think about it don't think about it_ \--

Merlin pushes Gwaine away. "Stop," he says, but he curls his arm around Gwaine's back and keeps him from pulling away. "Just hold me, for a bit?"

"At your service," Gwaine says with a soft smile. They lie down together, Merlin's head against Gwaine's chest, and it feels warm, safe. Merlin listens and chuckles at the jokes Gwaine tells, and his mind doesn't stray into the past again.

\--

It takes them a while to get it right. Gwaine loves touching and being touched; he loves to use his hands and his mouth in creative ways. Sometimes Merlin is fine with that, and other times he remembers being small and scared.

"What if I didn't touch you?" Gwaine suggests, after three days in a row of Merlin calling a stop to their activities.

Merlin stares. "How would that work?"

Gwaine stretches out on the bed and reaches to grasp at the headboard. "I'll keep my hands like this. You can touch me, but I won't touch you."

Strangely, the idea calms Merlin. He finds his breathing evening out as he takes his time exploring Gwaine's body. Brushing his fingers over Gwaine's nipples does barely anything, but licking them has Gwaine's breath hitch. Running his hands down Gwaine's sides elicits a shiver. When his hand briefly settles on Gwaine's cock, Merlin can see Gwaine's grip on the headboard tighten.

Counter to what Merlin expected, Gwaine does not make a lot of noise. He is very expressive, but years of training keep him silent: it's this more than anything that convinces Merlin that Gwaine always knows when he is transgressing, that Gwaine acts out on purpose.

"Can I--"

"Whatever you want, Merlin," Gwaine says. "You're calling the shots." And Gwaine snorts about that, as if it's funny somehow, but Merlin doesn't dwell. He leans down and licks the head of Gwaine's cock, surprised at the smoothness of the skin and the faint saltiness. Gwaine's thighs draw up slightly, a reaction that must be involuntary, given how quickly Gwaine stills himself.

Merlin looks at Gwaine's face, notes the sheen of sweat on his forehead, then applies his mouth more fully. It's amazing how much he can control Gwaine by doing just this -- Gwaine's tremors get stronger and stronger, and Merlin needs to apply pressure to keep Gwaine's hips from lifting off the bed.

"Now, now," Gwaine warns, just fast enough that Merlin can pull away and watch Gwaine's seed spill onto his stomach.

The image of Gwaine stretched out and dirty burns itself into Merlin's mind. He only needs a few tugs on his dick before he reaches his own release. He catches as much of it as he can in his own hand and smears it across Gwaine's stomach, mingling their seed.

"Beautiful," Merlin murmurs.

\--

Gwaine gets used to being tied up. At first it is just Gwaine keeping his hands to himself, though when his control slips Merlin begins using ropes and scarves to bind him. Then Merlin discovers a pair of manacles stashed in a guest room wardrobe, and those work even better. Gwaine smiles and laughs about them, and sometimes will lean in close while serving a drink and say something ridiculous like, "My wrists are starting to feel cold."

He always does it in front of guests, or when Morgause is in the room. It's such a dangerous game to be playing, because if somebody overheard then Merlin would be forced to punish Gwaine, but Merlin doesn't have it in his heart to forbid the flirtatious lines.

\--

It's Merlin's seventeenth birthday, and Nimueh and Sigan have spared no expense in throwing a feast in his honor. He knows it is more about the politics than about himself; Nimueh enjoys showing off their wealth, and Sigan enjoys whispering lies to the courtiers. Still, for a day, Merlin can pretend that people care about more than just his magic.

Merlin dances first with Morgana, then with Lady Helen, and then so many more ladies that he begins losing count.

He remembers Freya though. She has grown beautiful since the last time he saw her, almost a year ago, and she seems far more confident. 

"I've started training to become the guardian of Avalon," she confesses when he comments on her new demeanor. There is a faint blush on her cheek that only serves to make her more enticing.

"That's great. I'm so glad for you."

She follows him to an empty corridor, and leans in to his kisses. She is soft, and pliant, and her hands remain clasped with his. Merlin looks up briefly and spots Gwaine, who has a strange, hurt expression on his face.

"What is it?" he snaps, annoyed at the interruption. Freya follows his gaze.

"I thought--" Gwaine starts, and his voice is tight. 

"You don't need to think," and he fixes his eyes on Freya's lips again, "You're just property."

He hears Gwaine's footsteps as he leaves -- no matter: he has no need for him while Freya is here.

\--

Merlin finds Gwaine kissing Gwen, after a meeting that has left him harried and foul-tempered. Morgause expects him to participate, but she ridicules most of his suggestions and encourages other members of the council to do the same. Not even Morgana is willing to defend him; all she has are cryptic statements about what may or may not come to be.

So he is upset, and all he wants is to curl up with Gwaine, and instead he sees Gwaine and Gwen kissing. It isn't a conscious thought that sends the two of them flying apart, though Merlin finds that he doesn't regret this particular loss of magical control.

"Who said you were allowed to do that?"

Neither of them answers, though Gwaine gives him a defiant look as he stands up. It's a look that Merlin hasn't seen in years, and for some reason it hurts Merlin more than it angers him.

"Come, we're going to my chambers. Guinevere, go to Morgana and tell her what happened so she can punish you herself."

He doesn't wait to see if she obeys, though he will make sure to ask Morgana about it later. Right now, he needs to deal with Gwaine.

In the bedroom, Gwaine steps in close to Merlin and attempts to brush his lips against Merlin's neck. Perhaps if Merlin were in a better mood, the move would be enticing -- as it is, it only angers Merlin. His magic seems to take a life of its own, flinging Gwaine onto the bed.

"Don't think I'll forgive you so easily!"

Gwaine grunts as he attempts to sit up, only to be stopped by Merlin's magic. And this-- this is something Merlin has asked of his magic, he realizes. He wants to keep Gwaine on the bed, and his magic is obeying him. A rush of arousal washes over Merlin, mingling with the anger.

"What did I do?" Gwaine asks, his voice wavering slightly.

"You're mine! You don't get to kiss other people!" The idea that Gwaine didn't know that is absurd. He belongs to Merlin, and Merlin has said time and again that he does not share. Well, he has said it to Morgause, and to whatever visiting nobles attempted to borrow Gwaine -- surely Gwaine caught on?

And then Gwaine laughs. It is a harsh laugh, unlike the usual sunny laughter Merlin has grown used to. 

"What-- why are you laughing? Stop laughing!" Merlin gets on the bed and straddles Gwaine's hips, places his hands on Gwaine's shoulders.

The laughter settles into a chuckle. "That's rich. You're just like the other sorcerers."

"What?"

Gwaine looks him straight in the eyes, and there is something sad about his expression. "I thought you were better than them. 'Poor kid, it's not his fault, he had some bad things happen to him and nobody gives a damn about him.' But it turns out you've got the same attitude as them."

Merlin's control over his magic wavers. He can feel it trying to curl back inside him, to escape from Gwaine's words, but he clamps down on his resolve and keeps it in place. "Explain yourself!"

"Gwen is a slave, Merlin. And as you and all those sorcerers keep saying, we slaves aren't people. I wasn't kissing another person, I was kissing _property_."

The magic shatters. Merlin leans back, mouth agape, and tries to find a way to explain that no, this is different. Gwen and Gwaine aren't people, but they still aren't allowed to be intimate with each other. There are rules. Morgause has taught him over and over, made him memorize, and not anywhere in the rules does it say that slaves are allowed to _fornicate_ without permission.

Gwaine notices that he can move again, and he pushes Merlin away. Merlin slumps to the bed.

The order to stay goes ignored.

\--

A week later, Gwaine is gone.

Merlin is tempted to let him go, but his magic buzzes under his skin and Morgana tells him exactly where to find Gwaine. He and Morgause set out to recapture the runaway.

"It was really only a matter of time," Morgause says. "You never really broke him."

He ignores her; it is better to concentrate on the magical trail in front of them than to risk angering her with ill-thought words.

It's his own fault, for not taking better care of Gwaine. That is the lesson that Gaius always tried to teach him: lack of magic does not mean lack of feelings.

The trail leads to a shack. Something about it seems familiar, and the faint buzzing of his magic turns stronger and stronger, until his hands are shaking with suppressed power. His feet feel heavy, his breathing speeds up, his hair stands on end.

He does not want to go into the shack.

"Come on," Morgause says, tugging at his arm. "He must be inside."

"No." His voice wavers as he says it, making him sound more like ten than seventeen.

He takes a step back, and another, and maybe he would run back towards the castle except something tightens around his throat, forces the air from his lungs and brings him to his knees. Merlin tries to shout but can't do even that.

Morgause approaches him, crouches down and runs a finger along his jaw. "You are so much trouble."

This, this is even more familiar than the cottage. Panic builds up inside him, crawls along his skin like a million tiny spiders. He tries to yell, but there is no air in his lungs and he is starting to feel dizzy. He lashes out with his arms -- all he manages to do is knock against Morgause's shoulder. His vision starts to blur.

"Come along now," Morgause says. She starts walking towards the cabin, and something tugs at him, dragging him along behind her. It feels familiar, this strange pull, but he doesn't have time to analyze it. He needs to breathe, he needs to not trip over his own feet.

The inside of the cabin looks almost the same as last time, only now there are runes covering the walls. They are painted in bright yellow, almost gold. Merlin tries to decipher them, but none of them make any sense.

A sharp gasp draws his attention. A body is strung up along the left wall, writhing and swearing and -- it's Gwaine. He tries to focus, but he can't see well enough to determine whether Gwaine is hurt or not.

"Let me go, you bitch," Gwaine yells. Morgause ignores him and pushes Merlin into a chair in the center of the room, with runes spiraling out from that spot.

He can breathe again. Merlin heaves, drawing in air, and hopes this isn't just some short reprieve. "What--" he coughs, then tries again, "What do you want?"

Morgause looks at him for a brief moment, her lips turned up cruelly, almost like when she decides to punish a slave. "Same thing I wanted last time."

For some reason, it is these words, more than any of her actions, that cause Merlin's heart to tighten in his chest. It's true that he chafed under Morgause's tutelage, but throughout the years, he always thought that he could trust her. She was the one person who took interest in helping him control his magic, who didn't brush him aside after he came back broken from the kidnapping.

All of it, a lie. Merlin can't control his eyes tearing up again, though he hopes Morgause will assume it is a lingering effect of the earlier choking. He's been so stupid. How could he have forgotten that it was Morgause who tied him to the chair and whispered dark magic into his ear, who hurt him in ways that left him sobbing into his pillow night after night, years after it all?

The tenuous control he has over his magic falls away. He vaguely hopes that whatever it chooses to do, it will spare Gwaine -- it isn't Gwaine's fault -- but instead of rushing out like water escaping from a dam, it seems to hover around him and trickle, slowly, towards Morgause.

"There we go. There wasn't enough magic last time for this to work," Morgause says. Her eyes seem to follow the trail of his magic, and when Merlin focuses his gaze on it, he realizes the path is the same as the runes painted onto the floor.

Trying to stand proves futile: the magic that felt like a protective shield before now keeps him firmly in place. His own magic is being used to keep him captive. Merlin suddenly realizes why the faint pull dragging him into the cottage felt so familiar -- it was his own magic, guiding him along. Controlled by Morgause.

"Stop. Stop. STOP!" Merlin shouts, and all Morgause does is laugh. 

"What do you plan on doing, boy? I've spent seven years making sure you can't use your magic, ensuring that it listens to my call. You're even more powerless now than you were last time."

A feeling of utter helplessness washes over him. No matter how hard he tries to rein his magic in -- something he has never been good at -- all it does is continue plodding forward, right into Morgause's open palms.

"Fighting doesn't help, Merlin," Gwaine says. His voice is raspy, and now that Merlin can focus his gaze he sees that Gwaine has been beaten. "Fighting never helps."

The fact that Gwaine, who has ignored orders and talked back time and again, is telling Merlin to give up makes the finality of the situation even more complete. Merlin's magic will go to Morgause, so she can do -- Merlin doesn't even understand _why_ she is doing this to him, and isn't that the worst. He wishes he had been gifted with sight, like Morgana, so he could understand.

"Your slave finally gets it," Morgause says. "I'll have fun using him as the final sacrifice for this ritual."

Gwaine spits, loudly. Merlin sees the blood and spit land on one of the lines of the rune. Merlin feels something waver, just for a moment, and when he looks up Morgause is frowning slightly.

The chain Gwaine is hanging from rattles as he starts swinging his legs. He must be in a lot of pain -- it looks like his wounds are opening, letting fresh blood seep out -- but he keeps going. Some blood splatters to the floor, and Merlin feels another small, miniscule wave.

 _It's no use fighting_. Gwaine stopped fighting when Merlin asked him to. But he's still cheeky, has always questioned Merlin, and he somehow still manages to bend the rules and come out on top.

Merlin can't fight the rules. But maybe he can use them to his advantage. Morgause is pulling at his magic, at a slow pace, and wrapping it around herself. He isn't strong enough to get it back from her.

He bites down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, and lets it collect in his mouth. He swishes the blood and spit mixture for a moment, then spits onto the line right underneath him. Merlin feels a slight surge in magic.

"What are you doing?" Morgause demands.

Merlin does it again, and again, until he thinks his mouth is completely dry. Gwaine jostles his chains and draws Morgause's attention. She tells him to stop, but she's as trapped as the two of them are -- if she moves, the magic will flow wildly into the room.

And even as he notices his own magic reserves depleting -- something he's never felt before, it is _agony_ \-- he senses the slight wiggle room that their actions and Morgause's distraction are giving him.

It's a gamble, but there is no other way.

Merlin takes a deep breath and _pushes_.

All the magic within him jumps to obey. Now, it is not just a stream, but the largest river, rushing down a waterfall in torrents. It slams into Morgause, and she screams as she is thrown to the ground. Her body smudges the lines of the runes further, and whatever magic she had managed to steal is now escaping into the room. The sparse furnishings get flung around, the walls creak, the chain holding Gwaine breaks into individual links. 

This isn't control, not really, but it's freeing all the same. Merlin relishes in the feeling, knowing that he is the eye of the storm and nothing can touch him.

"No! Your magic, your destiny, is mine!"

Merlin sees Morgause attempt something, her lips are moving, but she can't reach him. Nothing she says or does will ever hurt him again. The magic rushes at her again, and he can sense how it is burning out every last connection she has with his magic, with her own magic, with the world. She screams and screams, and Merlin thinks it could be his lullaby on cold nights.

"Merlin! Merlin, stop it! You'll kill us both!"

Gwaine staggers towards him, anguish written clearly across his features. Magic stops him short a foot away from Merlin, like a thick wall. "Please Merlin, let me in. You did good, but it's over now."

There's a protest forming on his lips, because Merlin needs to be safe, and there's still a world out there that let Morgause do this to him, but somehow Gwaine's arm manages to reach through the magic and touch Merlin's shoulder. No matter that Merlin had watched the hand reach for him, it's still a shock -- Merlin suddenly finds himself overcome with fatigue and slumps forward, into Gwaine's embrace. The torrent of magic seems to vanish into the air, only a small seed of it left sitting inside Merlin.

Gwaine pets his hair and mumbles into his ear, "Merlin, I gotcha. Calm down."

The familiar words wring a completely different type of sob out of Merlin. How had he missed this, all these years?

It's all right to cry, because Gwaine isn't just a slave. He's a friend.

\--

Nimueh finds them. She tries to pry Merlin out of Gwaine's arms, but Merlin shies away from her touch and Gwaine refuses to let go. In the end, she uses her magic to patch up the two of them as best she can -- she's no healer -- and helps them back to the castle.

They are greeted by Morgana. She hugs Merlin and kisses his forehead, then ushers him to his chambers, where Gaius and Alice are waiting with potions and healing spells. There is barely time to blink before Merlin finds himself tucked under the bed covers, with salves applied to his wounds and magic helping his strength recover.

They try to keep Gwaine out, despite Merlin's protests, until Nimueh motions him in. "Please tend to his wounds as well," she says to Alice.

Gwaine doesn't waste time forgetting his place. "What the hell happened?" he demands, even as Alice washes the welts across his back. Merlin wonders how long Morgause tortured him. He must be worse off than Merlin, yet he isn't complaining.

Morgana starts fidgeting with her dress and glancing up at Gaius and Alice. Nimueh nods at them, and once they have deemed Gwaine properly tended to, they bow and excuse themselves. 

"I foresaw this," Morgana finally admits, "and I am so sorry that I couldn't stop it from happening." Her guilt is genuine enough that Merlin can believe he might still have an ally here.

Gwaine looks as if he wants to protest further, but Nimueh raises her hand to warn him. "I told her to keep silent. I was suspicious of Morgause, but I had no concrete proof that she was the one who kidnapped you the first time. Even Morgana's vision couldn't reveal who was going to be the culprit."

The memory sends a shudder through Merlin. "Why did she... she said something about wanting my destiny, but I don't understand."

"Your magic is tied to the land. She thought that if she could transfer it to herself, she would gain power and be the one to fulfill the prophecy." 

Both Merlin and Gwaine turn their gaze on Morgana.

" _Emrys will rule over Albion,_ " she says, her words near whispered. Still, they seem to echo in the room.

The reason Nimueh and Sigan took so much interest in Merlin. The reason why Morgause tried to steal his magic. The reason why Morgana seemed at times worried for him, at times scared of him.

"Out. All of you, out."

Merlin closes his eyes and slumps back into the bed. He hears them leaving; he wants nothing more than to be alone and process what happened. He doesn't think he'll be able to sleep anyway, not with the memories of _before_ blurring so strongly with the memories of the current day. He can't get the image of Gwaine strung up and bleeding out of his mind; he can't shake the feeling of ghost hands holding him in place.

The mattress shifts underneath him and Merlin's eyes fly open. Gwaine is settling in next to him. "I'm here. You can hold me, or I can just lie here. But I'm not leaving you."

Merlin is too exhausted to respond, too exhausted to even cry (though his vision blurs a bit). He pulls Gwaine into his embrace, and hopes it is answer enough.

He wonders what it says about him, that he is so dependent on Gwaine. But he needs this feeling of safety Gwaine gives him, and he is never going to let it go. That, at least, he can control.

**Author's Note:**

> Also mirrored at my [[Livejournal]](http://chicago-ruth.livejournal.com/23558.html) and my [[Dreamwidth]](http://chicago-ruth.dreamwidth.org/22707.html). Feel free to comment wherever you are most comfortable. :)


End file.
